


And Then You

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Britpicked, Not Kingsman: The Golden Circle Compliant, Post-Kingsman: The Secret Service, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, semi-Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: A mission gone wrong forced Roxy and Merlin to work together evading enemies, protecting their families and friends, and finding out the powerful force behind everything. In the process, their relationship changed from mentor and protege to handler and agent to friends to... lovers?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, yes, my dead ship. I'm still bitter about Golden Circle, so here's my denial of that film. 
> 
> I'm still kind of struggling with their characters, especially Roxy, but I'm doing my best. And this fic is going to be pretty long. I have a few chapters written, but not edited, but the end is nowhere near. I really really really should learn not to get too ambitious with my ideas.
> 
> And Then You is [a song by Greg Laswell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxHFokrqEF0).
> 
> Enjoy?

“Well done, Lancelot.”

Roxy finally released the breath she had been holding since Merlin started instructing her how to bypass various security measures on the target’s tab through her earpiece. The mission had gone flawlessly. Both she and Merlin had seamlessly blended with the party guests. She also had had no problem at all copying the necessary information before destroying the device and leaving the party without drawing so much as a glance from the security guards. Nevertheless, despite her expanding experience as a Kingsman, Roxy still felt some anxiety gained through a few unfortunate missions gone wrong.

“Thank you.” She threw Merlin a smile that she hoped didn’t betray too much of her apprehension. The man had left the safety of his office to provide technical assistance and she was determined to impress him now that he was there to observe her without the filter of the glasses (and hacked CCTVs). “This is very helpful,” she said as she handed Merlin a mobile phone. It had helped her quietly subdue a number of guards by triggering their own mobiles to release electronic waves to make them lose consciousness. It was a technology heavily inspired by Valentine, one of the few good things he had done for the world at large aside from being dead. It had proven to be an easy bloodless way to get past security and Roxy had been taking it with her in most of her missions of late.

“The trials have been very promising, I’m sure you’d agree,” Merlin replied, a minute note of smugness in his voice, although his expression betrayed nothing.

“Should we go now?”

Merlin tapped his notepad rapidly and nodded. Ever the hardworking man, he immediately dove into the presented data in the car instead of waiting to return to his office. “Yes, please.”

Roxy threw one last glance at the brightly-lit luxury house and started the car. Soon, they were on their way back to London. She hoped the damaged device wouldn’t be found for a good while yet as she disliked dramatic car chases. Regardless of what Eggsy seemed to think, spies were supposed to be subtle and secretive, not flashy and drawing the attention of everyone within a mile radius. Roxy much preferred quiet getaway–undetected and unsuspicious–to an exciting one. Fortunately, it seemed that she would get her way tonight. When ten minutes later she still saw no car following them, she began to relax.

“That party went on longer than expected,” she commented.

“It did,” Merlin agreed. “She has a lot to celebrate. Her personal emails indicate successful arms deal recently. Her overseas bank account has tripled in size.”

Roxy glanced at the figure on the screen of Merlin’s gadget and raised an eyebrow. “Do people actually believe she earns _that_ from her fashion line?”

Without lifting his eyes off the screen, Merlin answered her in a steady tone she had become so familiar with whispering in her ear. It was calming with its quiet confidence, assuring Roxy that she would be all right and that she was indeed in good hands. “It is quite a successful business, though not successful enough to afford her a small country. You have to admit she designs beautiful dresses. Those models wouldn’t have gone to the party otherwise and you wouldn’t have been able to get in there.”

Roxy looked down to the red richly-embroidered dress she was wearing and had to agree. It was the finest thing she had ever had to wear for a mission and Kingsman never scrimped when it came to the appearance of its agents. She had barely been able to hold back her cry of delight when Merlin said she could keep the dress after they finished the mission. And while she couldn’t pass as a model with her height, she had more than enough experience in acting like a socialite. No one had questioned her presence when she infiltrated the target.

“She should’ve just stuck to designing.”

Merlin made an agreeing noise, too engrossed with work to give her proper response. Roxy left him to it, focusing instead on the road as exhaustion seeped into her bones. The party _had_ gone on longer than expected—longer than she was comfortable with, in fact. She had just returned from another mission when Merlin recruited her. She had immediately accepted as she was (disappointingly) the only female agent and she had been promised that it would take only a couple of hours. It had taken more than four. Now that adrenaline had slowly drained out of her with the growing assurance of their safety, Roxy finally felt the full effect of her exhaustion slowing her brain and weighing down her body. Professional spy or not, she was only human.

Roxy blinked rapidly to keep herself awake. The streets were quiet at this time of the night, but she should still remain alert, not only for the obvious reason, but also in case they were being followed. Roxy pacified herself by counting the slowly diminishing distance between the car and Kingsman headquarter. Unfortunately, it was still almost one hour away, an amount of time that was acceptable in normal condition, but almost intolerable in her current state. Her awareness was slightly fuzzy around the edges, but Roxy should still manage to drive back safely as long as she didn’t let her mind drift off too far from the simple task of driving.

“Pull over. Let me drive for a while.”

Roxy glanced beside her to find that Merlin had abandoned his notepad to look at her. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly that’s not the case,” Merlin said with the same calm straightforwardness that had sent her away from dangers so many times. It was a struggle to not follow her initial instinct and obey him immediately. “You just returned from another mission and this one ran longer than expected. You need rest.”

“I’m not that tired,” Roxy argued. A yawn threatened to crack her face but she subdued it, although there was no hiding the brief loss of concentration on her face.

“You are. Pull over,” Merlin ordered. He nodded to the roadside. “I’ll drive us back.”

Roxy wanted to argue again and, more importantly, prove to Merlin that she could complete any and all tasks he gave her. However, she realized that he was right. It would be stupid to harm themselves in a car accident caused by her tiredness after successfully finishing a mission nonviolently. Now that the data had been collected, their priority was to bring it to Kingsman to be analyzed accordingly. Roxy’s exhaustion could ruin this. Mildly disappointed with herself but too sensible to recklessly risk their lives out of misplaced pride, Roxy pulled over.

It wasn’t until she wobbled out of the car that she realized how tired she really was, tired enough to struggle to keep her balance on her high heels. Fortunately, Merlin was immediately there (damn his long legs) to steady her with a hand on her elbow. “All right, Roxy?”

Roxy nodded and drew herself away from the inviting warmth of Merlin’s arms. She managed to walk to the other side of the car with some semblance of grace befitting the dress she was wearing. She dimly noted that Merlin waited for her to climb back into the car before getting in himself and was grateful that he allowed her that bit of dignity instead of carrying her back inside. Released from the driving duty, Roxy sank into the seat as her eyes began to flutter closed. “Just give me ten minutes.”

Merlin said nothing and the car purred back into life. Roxy tried to stay awake for a while just to prove that she wasn’t that affected by two consecutive missions, but it was a losing battle. She was soon deeply asleep, head lolling against her shoulder. The car seat made a barely tolerable mattress, but she still didn’t stir even once, Merlin driving the car as carefully and smoothly as he handled Kingsmen. Roxy didn’t even wake up when the car came to a final stop. It took Merlin’s large hand on her arm to finally pull her from her dreams. Roxy blearily blinked at the familiar and relieving sight of the interior of Kingsman’s massive garage and turned to Merlin groggily.

“We’re here,” he said.

Roxy offered half-hearted protests for not being wakened earlier, but Merlin clearly knew she didn’t really mean it because he said nothing by way of defense or practical rationale. He arranged double debriefs for the following day that Roxy only barely managed to mentally insert into her schedule, and informed her of the progresses of both missions. It wasn’t until she was comfortably settled in her bed in Kingsman’s sprawling property that she realized Merlin had walked her back to her room. However, before she could decide whether to be pleased by his attention or offended by his lack of confidence in her, she had once again sunk into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta for helping me with this chapter!
> 
> Advice about the tags is appreciated.

Merlin loved his job, he really did. It was rewarding in a way that no common office work could be. Even praises from happy clients that he had received in his past jobs couldn’t quite match the pride and happiness he experienced from successfully guiding Kingsman’s agents through world-altering missions and then ensuring their safe returns. It would be an insult to ignore failed missions, however, and he had suffered for every single one of them. Some had gotten away with injuries while others had never made it back. Merlin regretted every avoidable wound and still mourned for every loss. He wasn’t trained as an agent and thus separating his emotions from his work didn’t come as easily to him as it did to the agents. Still, he generally managed to at least function well enough to do his job and the agency’s thorough mental health support took care of the rest.

So, for the _most_ part, Merlin loved his job. However, if there was anything he would complain about, it would be the hours. They were longer than any regular job and as there was no way to plan the next global crisis, he must stay on alert at all time, especially after Valentine, an event that revealed how vulnerable the agency really was to overly ambitious villains. After over two decades working with Kingsman, Merlin had successfully alienated himself from anyone who wasn’t working for the agency. He still saw his family from time to time, but any friendships he had gained over the years were lost due to lack of interaction. He hadn’t had any lover in many years and the brief thought of adopting a pet was quickly dashed by practicality – he wasn’t home often enough to call his house a home, let alone take care of another living thing. The first and last pet he had was the puppy he had adopted since he was recruited by Kingsman, a beautiful border collie he had named Fergus. Fortunately, the pooch had been allowed into Kingsman’s properties due to the nature of his adoption, otherwise Merlin would’ve had to give it away. After Fergus died at the age of fourteen, he never tried to adopt any other animal. Merlin had to admit (very privately, of course) that he was sometimes lonely.

The feeling was emphasized as right now he had means of communicating with Kingsman’s agents at his fingertips. With simply a press of a button, he would be able to contact any agent who wasn’t currently on a mission. It was a tempting thought and he fancied himself being on good enough terms with them to start casual conversation out of the blue, but Merlin couldn’t do it. He looked at the large monitor before him, noting the positions and conditions of the agents. His finger hovered over a key that would connect him to them, but he pulled his hand away and shook his head before he could convince himself to press the key. Not only would it be unprofessional, he wasn’t certain his companionship would be well-received. It was one thing to head to the pub after a particularly difficult mission or getting utterly smashed after the loss of a mutual friend. It was another thing to start a conversation because he was all alone in his office, finishing reports the agents couldn’t be bothered to do, and he would be equally alone when he returned home, whenever that was.

Besides, the agents had their own lives, their own friends and families they likely would rather spend their free time with than a colleague who would inevitably remind them of their occasionally dark line of work. There had been Harry, but, well…

Sighing quietly, Merlin resigned himself to a couple more hours of work accompanied by the quiet and too-familiar white noise of the equipment in his office. The new Arthur was almost doubtlessly free from any dangerous outside influence, but he was also very old-fashioned when it came to management, requiring frequent meetings with agents and more thorough mission reports and any other paperworks pertaining to Kingsman’s operations. The agents were able to escape from some of it, but not Merlin, who sometimes even had to pick up their slack. He really ought to talk to them about writing their own reports instead of leaving everything to him.

“ _Merlin, are you there?_ ”

Merlin’s head immediately snapped up at the voice coming out of the large screen in front of him. He hurriedly pushed aside his paperwork and looked for her coordinates.

“I am, Lancelot. What happened?”

His heart was racing when he found her downtown. Roxy wasn’t supposed to be on any mission right now, but in their line of work there was no telling when something dangerous would happen. They had no shortage of enemies. Although in most missions they managed to bring the main targets to justice, there was no fully effective way to apprehend their followers. Attacks from these loyal followers were known to happen from time to time, to say nothing of the fact that no matter how careful the agents were, they were _not_ invisible. There were bound to be people who had seen them or worse, wanted them dead. While Roxy’s latest mission with the arms dealer went smoothly, she had dealt with very dangerous people with nearly unlimited resources. Merlin wasn’t naïve enough to think that something as simple as prison could keep them away from the agent who exposed them to the authorities.

“ _They’re singing the song of your people!_ ”

Merlin paused. He was vaguely familiar with the phrase, although he couldn’t think of who would constitute as “his people.” The explanation came by way of a song playing through his speakers, followed by her slightly drunken cheer. Merlin raised an eyebrow when John Denver’s “ _Coming Home_ ” started to play, the tune easily recognizable to him, even though to him it was only a slightly muted background noise through his monitor.

“Are you using a Kingsman’s communication device just to make me listen to a song?” he asked, his amusement bleeding into his voice despite his best efforts to sound stern. Even if he hadn’t noticed the slight slur in her speech, he could tell immediately that she wasn’t thinking as clearly as she usually did. Eggsy occasionally misused gadgets and equipment given to him. Merlin had had to lecture him more than once for using one of the devices to talk to his girlfriend on missions that sent him to locations with poor phone service. However, Roxy was always more conscientious, always listening to orders and following the rules. Except when she had a little too much to drink, apparently.

“ _Oh, let me get closer_ ,” Roxy insisted.

An off-key voice became progressively louder, the singers making up for his unimpressive skill with volume. Roxy thankfully stopped at a distance where Merlin could enjoy the song without deafening himself. Despite himself, Merlin began to hum along and even chuckled at some overly enthusiastic singing. He had never tried singing karaoke and had no intention of completely humiliating himself in such a way but even without any visual he saw the appeal of it, singing favorite songs off key with equally-intoxicated friends and enjoying the night with them. He was almost tempted to hack into the establishment’s CCTV. _Almost_. Tonight, he would survive with just the audio and Roxy singing along to the song in the background.

There was a distinct feminine cheer when the song ended. Merlin gave a polite but hearty clap. “That was interesting. Thank you, Roxy.”

“ _You’re welcome_ ,” she said, sounding too pleased with herself to take any reprimand to heart.

“How did you know I like that song?” he asked.

“ _You have his albums in your tablet. It’s not a hard guess_ ,” Roxy replied smugly.

He didn’t even know she had fiddled with his tablet. He eyed the device speculatively, wondering what else she had seen. He stored little personal information in it, but working with spies had given him a slightly unhealthy paranoia. Only Gawain had managed to get his hands on Merlin’s personal files, although he had only managed to see one of Merlin’s embarrassing high school pictures before Merlin blocked his access. This had led to a week of teasing remarks (and puns) about hairline from Gawain and Harry, and thus taught Merlin to better secure his data. However, this was Roxy, a Kingsman, someone he had managed dozens of time since her appointment as the new Lancelot. Whatever information she managed to find and whatever conclusion she had drawn, he was safe with her.

“ _When it started playing, it reminded me of you_ ,” she continued.

Merlin smiled in amusement. “I hope your friends didn’t notice you making this call.” He didn’t need to hack into anything to know that she was with friends. She was a little more guarded that Eggsy was, but it only meant she kept a smaller circle of very close friends rather than that she lived in isolation. The recent mission with the arms dealer had shown Merlin this fact. He still vividly remembered his admiration when he saw her blend easily into the crowd of the rich and the popular as if she had always been a part of them. Despite his extensive experience, it still took him a moment to consider the setting and the role he was to play before he infiltrated the target, but it took mere seconds for Roxy to do so. It was no wonder considering her background, but it still had been a marvel to witness firsthand.

“ _Right now, I could get murdered in front of them and they wouldn’t notice_ ,” she said in amusement.

“Nevertheless, be careful. The arms dealer in your recent mission has long reach and many friends. She wasn’t happy when she found out someone has stolen her data.”

“ _I will_ ,” Roxy said readily with almost no trace of drunkenness in her voice. “ _They’re playing another John Denver’s song. Do you want to listen to it_?” she asked.

Merlin considered the paperwork he had shoved aside the moment he heard her voice and the song that had begun to play. Stress bleeding out slowly but surely, he leaned back on his chair and smiled to the blank screen. “If you don’t mind.”

Roxy laughed. “ _Of course not_.”

The reports would be late and he would have to work hard to finish them on time tomorrow, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel too bad about it. Merlin nodded along as the familiar tune filled his office. When the singers and Roxy sang, he sang quietly with them. “ _You fill up my senses. Like a night in the forest. Like the mountains in springtime. Like a walk in the rain._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to say hi to me on [my tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the actual plot will happen at some point. Chapter 6 to be exact. Um, stick with me?
> 
> This chapter mentions the characters and plot of Pride and Prejudice. I'm far from a scholar on the subject, so please ignore any inaccurate analysis here. If you're unfamiliar with the novel (hey, no shame! I'm ESL and read it for the first time a couple of years ago!) here's [the wiki page](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_and_Prejudice).

The best thing about being a professional spy (as if there was any surviving _non_ professional one,) Roxy decided, was the flexible work hour. While her friends were slaving away at their offices, she was free to wander around the town, enjoying the pleasure of not having her life in peril, and spending her hard earned money. She reckoned she could almost pass for a socialite, flaunting her privileges to the coveting world, without a single trouble that her parents couldn’t solve with their wealth. Unlike those socialites, however, her private life was outwardly unremarkable and her carefully curated social media account only displayed a few pictures of her on weekends spent with friends and family along with obligatory greeting whenever someone celebrated their birthday. She updated her social media occasionally to give the impression of a normal life of a modern young woman who was definitely not a spy and to amuse herself with whatever lies and conspiracy theories her older relatives had caught wind of that week. Those who thought they knew her would think that her life was completely ordinary and Roxy preferred to keep it that way rather than admitting the secretive and dangerous natures of her real job (which was absolutely far more exciting than any drama any beautiful and rich person with access to social media could stir). Nevertheless, on days as this, a busy weekday when most people were working but she was free to enjoy herself, Roxy was most happy with her choice of profession.

This wasn’t necessarily a good thing, however. Unfortunately, some of the downsides of being a spy with flexible work hour were Roxy often found herself without company on her free time and she often had to invent excuses when invited to outings while on missions. She had lost count of invitations she had had to turn down. While she tried to make up for it when she had safely returned home, Roxy realized that she was gradually drifting away from her loved ones. For now, they allowed this as she was supposedly newly employed, but she doubted the understanding would last forever.

Lost friendship was an almost inevitable part of life, but it didn’t mean that Roxy liked it. She loved her friends and relatives and did her best to spend some quality time with them, but the longer she served Kingsman, the more difficult it became to take part in said quality time. Even a night out with the girls required weeks of planning in advance and plenty of praying for no emergency situation to arise. Her family fared no better. It was only thanks to teamwork and an understanding handler that she managed to attend her father’s birthday party a few months ago and she had been terribly late. Roxy felt a great sense of foreboding sometimes when she thought about her future and pictured herself alone with no partner, friend or family. She never pictured herself having a domestic life with a partner and two and a half children, of course, and she could in fact thought of nothing else she wanted beside being a Kingsman. Still, there was something sad about only having an organization of secret agents with whom she shared interest in saving the world and little else, as her company.

Accompanied by this gloomy but familiar thought, Roxy entered a coffee shop to lift her mood with a cup of overpriced coffee, only to stop and stare at the sight of Merlin sitting at a corner with a book in his hand. Roxy discreetly scanned the surrounding area to see if she had walked into some kind of dangerous situation, but found no obvious cause for alarm. It was a comforting finding – it was always nice to know that her life wasn’t in peril – but then Roxy hesitated. The protocol should a friend or family find her with another Kingsman agent or staff was to introduce them as her colleagues in the tailor shop where she supposedly work as a PR staff. However, there was no protocol for when she met another agent or staff when they were both on their days off. Should Roxy ignore Merlin? Should she him a curt nod and mind her own business? Should she leave and find another coffee shop? Was she allowed to sit down with him, forego all lies, and enjoy the companionship of someone with whom she didn’t have to constantly censor herself?

Running away seems ridiculous, however, even if Merlin hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. Roxy considered her options after getting her coffee. Approaching him meant announcing their acquaintance and there was no such thing as being too careful in their line of work – who knew who saw them and what could be gained from the observation. Meanwhile, there were other seats available for her to take. She could simply get her own table and then give him a nod when or if he noticed her. Roxy glanced at the door again, then at the empty seats in the coffee shop. She could and maybe should avoid him, but no one ever accused Roxy Morton of running away from anything.

Merlin didn’t notice her until she stood beside his table and cleared her throat. She smiled when he looked up in surprise. “Roxy?”

“Mind if I join you?” Roxy asked.

It was a little presumptuous of her to assume she’d be welcomed, but she figured that considering how much time they spent together and how much Merlin knew about her, they were almost friends. The rather unprofessional incident where she called him when she went to a karaoke bar with her friends kind of cemented that. She didn’t think that it had helped her paint herself as the mature professional agent that she wanted him to see, but that had at least gave her an almost-friend.

Roxy sat down at his nod, relaxing as Merlin didn’t seem to be bothered to talk to her. If he wanted to be left alone or she violated some Kingsman’s policy she wasn’t aware of, she trusted him to let her know. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice trailing off at the end as she realized she didn’t know his real name. She couldn’t very well call him Merlin here in public, could she? It was very unlikely to be a real name and could gain unwanted attention – how many Merlins could there be in this country?

“Neither did I,” Merlin returned. He casually picked up his coffee cup and brought it to his lips, revealing the name written on it.

Roxy raised her eyebrow incredulously when she read “Hamish” on the cup. The dry look she earned from him informed her of how tired he was of that reaction. “Pride and Prejudice?” she said instead, noting the book he had now put down.

The corners of Merlin’s lips curled up. “I like some light readings once in a while.”

“It’s not the kind of light reading I expected from you,” she confessed, thinking of thick books on quantum physics or something equally complex rather than a romance novel.

“If you expect Arthurian fictions, I’m afraid you’d be very disappointed,” he said dryly. “Are you alone today?”

“It’s weekday.” Roxy shrugged. “And you?”

Merlin nodded to his book. “It’s just me and Mr. Darcy.”

Roxy smiled, selfishly pleased to find someone in the same boat as she. “I didn’t expect to see you out of the office, especially on a weekday.”

“I’ve worked overtime for the past two weeks. I decided to take advantage of a day off today.”

There was tiredness in his expression that had little to do with physical exhaustion. Roxy had met Percival just after he finished his mission a couple of weeks ago and she could tell that it hadn’t gone as well as expected, if not from his limp, bruised, and less-than-flawless appearance, then from the haunted look in his eyes. A few innocent lives had been lost before he managed to escape his interrogation cell, burn down the smuggler camp, and leave the humid tropical jungle for home. While they were all relieved to not lose a fellow agent, the loss of lives, the imperfect execution, and the knowledge that they would have to return to _really_ finish the mission stressed both agent and handler. Roxy couldn’t help but pity Merlin, but she didn’t think pity would be very welcomed, nor would a discussion on the mission right here in public. So, she glanced down to Merlin’s book again.

“So what do you think about Mr. Darcy?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but looked grateful nevertheless. Soon they were engrossed in a discussion about what women saw in the character vs. what men saw in him, followed by how the social and historical contexts the story was set in influenced the plot, and, most heatedly, whether the adaptations adequately retell the book. Neither of them were scholars on the subject, their arguments were based solely on their subjectivity, and that made things more fun. It was a refreshing change. Usually their conversations centered on the technical, discussions on how to best carry out missions safely and successfully. There were so many things to think about. Every possibility must be visited and addressed to avoid unwanted surprise and they often ended their discussions frustrated or under immense pressure to stretch their limitations.

However, there was no need for dour seriousness when they were discussing fiction. They both agreed that the match in the book was sweetened by the financial situations of both characters. They also reluctantly approved of Lizzie’s determination to marry out of love instead on mere convenience, though they admitted that were the story to end with her marrying a poor man she loved, the book wouldn’t be half as popular as it was. As practical as both Roxy and Merlin were, neither of them thought the benefits of marrying Mr. Collins was worth spending the rest of one’s life with someone the author, the protagonist, and the character’s own wife owned to be intolerable. One thing they couldn’t agree on was the attraction of the romantic interest. Roxy was charmed by the changes in personality Mr. Darcy underwent after the harsh rejection to his proposal, while Merlin remained skeptical of the permanence of the alteration.

“Men do many insincere things to impress their lovers.”

“I think you completely missed the point that it’s a female fantasy that such an unbearably proud man would change himself because of the words of a woman. It is a fictional story written by a woman and it reflects that particular view. That’s why it’s such a lasting favorite, especially among women.” She smiled. “The scenes in the adaptations where the actors emerge from the lake dripping wet also help.”

Merlin contemplated this for a moment and nodded sagely. “Those are rather gratifying scenes. I certainly watch them often enough.”

Roxy nearly choked on her laughter, not expecting that little bit of insight into Merlin’s life. Tickled as she was, though, she felt a hint of disappointment. Her lingering crush on him since she started her training was completely quashed. The fact that Kingsman didn’t allow relationship had dampened her hope. The new realization that Merlin wouldn’t see her _that_ way was the last nail in the coffin. Oh, well. “Gratifying enough to convince you of the many attractions of Mr. Darcy?”

“It’s gratifying, or at least delightfully inappropriate, especially for women of that era. But physical attraction alone shouldn’t be the basis of marriage.”

“The book does warn against it. It certainly helps, though.” Roxy took a sip of her cold coffee and frowned at the cup, having not realized how long she had spent sitting there, talking to Merlin and drinking coffee.

Merlin stood up. “Would you like another? I’ve also finished mine.”

“Oh, yes. Let me just…” Roxy began to reach for her purse, but was stopped by a shake of Merlin’s head.

“No, no, it’s my treat.” He went to the counter before Roxy could argue. He came back a few minutes later with two cups of their previous orders and set Roxy’s in front of her. When she thanked him, he merely shook his head. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were warm and he seemed more relaxed than Roxy had ever seen him before. “It’s not every day that I get to spend over half an hour discussing the merits of marrying fictional characters. It’s the least that I can do.”

Roxy chuckled and brought her cup to her lips. “Be careful. I just might accuse you of being a romantic.”

Merlin smiled lightly, but didn’t retort. They continued their discussion of classical literatures afterward and while they didn’t always agree on every point, Roxy noticed the increasing frequency of his tiny smiles and the evaporating tension on his shoulders. A sense of accomplishment not unlike the one she felt at the end of every successful mission filled her and she smiled to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now I can still be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This author unfortunately isn't familiar with programming and is too lazy to look it up. The only coding I'm familiar with is more about qualitative data analysis than the matrix and stuff. So.

The letters on the screen blurred. Codes which were usually as understandable as plain English to him were now a collection of impossible riddles. Merlin removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he needed rest after long hours of designing, building, and then testing various new devices for the agents. He should’ve gone home as soon as he finalized the latest design for weaponized shoes for Roxy, but he couldn’t resist testing the security system of Kingsman’s network, just in case. Quite surprisingly, he actually found an issue in the complex program. He had thought he could handle a little extra work (it wouldn’t be the first time he had an unplanned overtime. In fact, it was rarer for him to _not_ have unplanned overtime), but as the brightness of the large screen assaulted his tired eyes for hours, he began to reconsider.

He could continue it tomorrow, of course, but Merlin hated leaving things unfinished. There was also deep-seated paranoia of leaving even the smallest opportunity for enemies to enter the network, especially since they dealt with powerful people with access to ridiculously sophisticated technologies, not just random people with more brawn than brain. The flaw he had spotted in the system would allow foreign device to access the wealth of sensitive information contained in the network with something as simple as sticking a USB drive into one of the existing Kingsman’s gadgets and equipment. It had thus far never been taken advantage of, but it was not an excuse for him to let it remain that way even for one night. Merlin knew from past painful experiences how things could change in a matter of hours. Kingsman must always be one step ahead of everyone, whether friends or foes. He needed coffee, not sleep.

Sighing, Merlin left his desk for the coffeemaker he had built himself to suit his specific needs, the machine sitting in the corner of his office ready for just this sort of occasions. It only took one press of a button for it to make coffee the way he liked it. In the short minutes he had to wait, he rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying to will them open for at least an hour more and not succeeding as well as he hoped. He hoped the caffeine would be able to successfully negotiate with his brain because at the moment, sheer willpower seemed to be not working too well.

He had just sat back down at his desk with a hot cup of coffee in his hand when someone knocked on his door. Frowning, Merlin called the person to come in and soon found Roxy walking into his office with a look of mild curiosity. While this look meant that she wasn’t there for an emergency situation, Merlin was still surprised to see her. He glanced at the time on the screen and his frown deepened.

“It’s almost two in the morning. Aren’t you supposed to be home?” he asked.

“I just finished my report on Bulgaria. That mobile phone is starting to be my favorite. Not having to fight every guard in the premise saves a lot of time.” Roxy seemed rather pleased with herself, recalling the mission Merlin had supervised with full satisfaction mere hours ago. It was a pleasure to know that their first female Kingsman was fast becoming their best agent, proving that reservations from old-fashioned (dead traitorous) colleagues were wrong. “I was going to go home, but I heard that you’re still here.”

“I do keep long hours,” Merlin said, lightly brushing off the concern.

“Very long. You’ve been here since very early this morning, I heard.” Roxy looked at his steaming coffee, daring him to deny her.

It was impossible to fool an agent he had personally trained to notice little details that gave away one’s current state. Merlin put down the mug and regarded her somberly. “I need to test a code. There’s a little problem in the system.”

Roxy looked at the screen curiously. “What sort of problem?” she asked as she came to stand beside him.

“A small but possibly significant security problem. I should be done soon,” he assured her.

Roxy was still looking at the screen. “You won’t be if you write your codes like that,” she observed, drawing Merlin’s attention to the bright screen where indeed he found a mistake among the endless lines. But, finding it was one thing and fixing it was another and Roxy frowned at him as his fingers tripped over the keyboard keys. “You need to go home and sleep. The fix could wait one night.”

Merlin wasn’t so vain that he was embarrassed to be found to be only human, but he still felt the need to show more resilience than the average person. He was, after all, a Kingsman and this was for the agents – Roxy included. “It may not,” he said as he continued to correct the mistyped code, gritting his teeth when he ended up making a few more mistakes.

He could feel her eyes on him without having to look at her, and prepared a defense for his determination. Roxy could be stubborn – it took that trait to be a decent spy – but so could he. Merlin braced himself for an argument, hoping that his current mental state would still allow him to win it. He didn’t expect Roxy to stand close to him and pull the keyboard toward herself. “Come here. Let me fix it.”

Merlin arched an eyebrow at her. “No offense, Lancelot, but I don’t recall advanced programming being a part of your skillset.”

“I’m learning.” Roxy didn’t look offended. If anything, she threw him a smug look as she typed complex codes. “How did you think I managed to hack into your tablet and find out about your favorite artist?”

The skepticism he had was replaced by immense surprise, though Merlin wasn’t sure whether it was a pleased surprise or not. He glanced at his tablet, thinking of the various security measured he had put there. He was quite proud of the work he had done there. It wasn’t impenetrable (there was always room for improvement in security measures, especially in Kingsman) but he had made sure it would extraordinary skill to get through everything without him realizing it, a skill he hadn’t realized Roxy have. “I thought I simply misplaced it,” he admitted.

Roxy smirked. “You didn’t.” She narrowed her eyes at the screen. “This is beyond my skill, however. Can you tell me what to do? I’ll type it out. That way we both can go home sooner,” she proposed, sounding as serious as when she was on a proper mission in the field.

Merlin thought to protest but recognized the wisdom in her proposal. He did want to go home to sleep and the task would be finished faster with keener eyes and a sharper mind. So, he pulled a vacant chair for Roxy to sit on beside him. While her skill proved to not be equal to his, she still knew enough to notice when his concentration was slipping. A few times, she warned Merlin about errors in his instructions and by every passing minute Merlin’s admiration for her secret skill grew. Honing their existing skills and gaining new ones were important in their line of work, but gaining this skill to such high level showed an excellent initiative and quite extraordinary efforts. He sneaked a glance at Roxy’s serious face. He always tried to not have any favorite among his colleagues, but he might be fond of Roxy a little more than he was of the others.

Together, they stayed in the office for another hour before they were both satisfied enough with the improvement they made to leave it to be reviewed in the morning. They parted at the garage with tired nods and Merlin almost immediately fell asleep the second he sat down on the seat of his self-driving car, pleased and satisfied with the way the night turned out.

**Author's Note:**

> The villainy designer is sort of inspired by a real case of a designer who scammed over 60 thousand people. Don't judge a book by its cover. Or its blurb. Or its reviews. Or people's recommendation. Don't trust anything and anyone. 
> 
> Feel free to say hi to me on [my tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


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